Without A Trace
by SupernaturalGeek
Summary: Dean and Sam face losing the only family they have left when Bobby goes missing on a hunt. Can they work out what happened and find him in time? Set Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

•

"Do you see anything yet?"

"No. Just like I couldn't see anything the last time you asked me. Ten seconds ago."

"Come on, Sam, don't exaggerate. It was at least thirty seconds."

Sam glanced at him and tried to glare but ended up matching Dean's smirk.

"Very funny."

"I thought so. Seriously, we've been sat here what? Two hours? I'm dying of boredom here, Sammy."

"You know you said that after the first fifteen minutes. Look, this isn't exactly my idea of fun either but what do you want me to do? Tell you a story?"

"Yeah, cos I'm five years old."

"You've certainly got the attention span."

Dean nudged him with his knee then shifted in his seat, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position. Much as he loved his baby even he had to admit after two hours sat in the same position his ass was starting to go numb.

"You're sure this is the place?"

Sam gritted his teeth. He hadn't been kidding about the attention span thing.

"Yes, Dean, this is the place. Which you've also asked me about twenty times since we got here by the way. You want me to go through it all again from the top? For those of us who weren't listening the first fifty times."

Dean grimaced.

"Thanks, I'll pass. It was boring enough first time. You know if you made this stuff sound less geeky and more interesting, I might actually hear it instead of lapsing into a coma halfway through."

"Whatever. Just don't come crying to me when you get yourself killed because you missed a vital piece of information."

Dean grinned at him.

"Ah, but that's what you're here for."

Sam looked over and after a second couldn't help but grin back. He was pretty sure there'd been a backhanded compliment in there somewhere, about how his brother trusted him to watch his back.

You had to take what you could get with Dean.

"I say we give it another half hour and call it a night." he continued, bringing Sam's attention back to the present.

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, ok."

Truth was it had been a bit of a shot in the dark anyway. Although the reports seemed to suggest the presence of a wendigo it could also just as easily have been a bear. They'd been staking out an old cave, situated right next to the parking area where all the victims had left their cars, but the cave itself had revealed none of the usual stuff they'd expect to find in a wendigo's lair. Their stakeout meanwhile had done nothing except remind Sam why this was the part of the job he liked least.

Two hours stuck in a confined space with Dean, with nothing to do, would have tried the patience of Mother Theresa.

Just then they heard a rustling noise. Instantly alert they both sat up straighter, peering out into the dark and straining their eyes to see.

"Anything?" whispered Dean and Sam shook his head.

Dean opened his door, very slowly to try and minimise the creaking, and stepped out. He moved cautiously round the front of the car, listening hard and scanning the trees next to the cave.

Sam watched apprehensively, splitting his gaze between the cave and his idiot brother. He definitely did not remember the part of the plan where Dean got out of the car alone to get a better look. He carefully opened his own door, grabbing the flare gun that lay on the seat, and eased himself out of the car. Dean glanced round and motioned him to stay put but Sam ignored him, instead creeping round to the front to join him.

Dean didn't waste his breath berating Sam for not doing as he was told but he did glare at him, which Sam also ignored. They stood there silently for a moment, nerves tense with anticipation, when they heard the rustle again.

Dean silently motioned the direction it had come from and Sam nodded. Dean pulled his gun from his waistband – it might not kill the creature but it would slow it down long enough to use the flare – and led the way, his footsteps barely making a sound. Sam followed close behind, the flare gun primed and ready in his hands.

They stopped in front of the place where the noise had seemed to come from. Dean leant forward, peering in between the branches. He turned to say something to Sam when the bush literally exploded and something hit him from behind, hard.

"Dean!"

He heard Sam's yell but he was busy trying to breathe, as whatever it was now had him pinned to the ground. Not to mention the fact all the air had left his lungs when he'd hit the dirt at speed. He grunted and tried to turn round so he could get a grip on it, the gun having flown out of his hands when he hit the floor, and dimly registered that he could feel fur and not the smooth skin he'd expect from a wendigo.

Just then there was the deafening sound of a gun shot, and whatever it was stopped struggling and instead collapsed on top of him. For a moment the weight was unbearable, then it lifted. Hands grabbed under his arms and pulled him upright, making the scenery tilt slightly.

"Hey, are you alright?"

He turned to face Sam's anxious gaze and nodded, coughing slightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Little squashed, but fine."

With Sam's help he got to his feet, wincing as he felt bruises already appearing and brushing at the dirt all over the front of his jacket. He looked down and saw what it was that had attacked him.

"Huh. Guess it wasn't a wendigo after all."

Sam shook his head, his face grim.

"Not this time."

Dean bent down, surprised at both the size of the bear and at the bullet wound that went clean through it's temple. He glanced up at Sam, who still had Dean's gun in his hand.

"Nice shot, dude."

"Thanks."

Sam didn't look all that pleased though, in fact he looked a little guilty. Dean was about to remind him he'd had no choice but to shoot the creature when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he turned the bear over and grimaced at the smell.

"Damn, that's nasty. Sam, come and look at this."

Sam leant over and put his hand over his nose.

"Oh man – what is that?"

"Looks like a broken off crossbow bolt. Some idiot would-be hunter must have shot the thing and then let it get away. Poor bastard must have been in agony."

"Which would explain why it started attacking humans, especially if it was sick. That's been infected for days by the look of it." said Sam, grimly.

"It didn't stand a chance. You know I'd love to get my hands on the moron with the crossbow and see how he likes getting shot in the ass. Not only is he responsible for making this creature suffer, he's also responsible for those hikers getting killed as well."

Sam sighed.

"I know. Unfortunately there's no way of working out who it was. I bet those bolts are everywhere out here and if it was someone up for hunting season, they could be long gone by now anyway."

Dean stood up, brushing off his hands and looking down at the bear with a frustrated look on his face.

"This really sucks."

"I know." said Sam, still feeling bad that he'd had to kill something 'normal'.

Dean glanced at him and saw the look.

"Hey – don't go feeling guilty about this, ok? You put him out of his misery, wasn't anything else anyone could have done at this point. Besides, he was about to rip me to shreds so I'm definitely alright with you taking the shot."

Sam gave a slight smile. Dean did have a point there.

"Plus he won't be attacking anyone else now. You did good, Sam."

Sam nodded, appreciating the words but still sad that such a beautiful creature had ended up in such a terrible state purely because some idiot with no clue what he was doing had wanted to play hunter.

"What should we do with it?" he asked and Dean contemplated the corpse for a moment.

"Leave it here. The rangers will most likely find it and hopefully they'll put two and two together and realise what was killing those people."

Sam took one last look before following Dean back to the Impala. He supposed they'd been lucky really, at least they'd solved the mystery and taken care of the problem with relatively little damage. Even if it wasn't exactly their kind of thing in the end. He opened his door and watched Dean wince as he got in on his side, making a mental note to check later that it really was just bruises his brother had been left with.

As they pulled back onto the highway Dean's phone beeped. He felt around in his pocket, pulling it out and glancing at the screen before throwing it to Sam.

"See what that is would you?" he said, as Sam caught it. He looked down at the '1 missed call' message and opened it up, dialling the voicemail number and putting it to his ear.

Sam listened to the message, his eyes suddenly widening. His face paled and he reached out, grabbing hold of Dean's arm in a bruising grip.

"Ow – dude, what the hell?" said Dean, before he looked across and noticed Sam's face.

"What? What's wrong?" he demanded and Sam met his gaze, his expression grim.

"We need to turn around and head back south."

"Why?" said Dean, already doing a u-turn.

"It's Bobby. He's in trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean clenched his jaw as he listened to the message for the third time.

They'd pulled in to a rest stop moments earlier to stretch their legs and for Sam to use the bathroom. Now Dean leant against the hood of the Impala while he waited for Sam to come back, taking the opportunity to listen to Bobby's frantic call for help one more time.

"Dean, it's Bobby. Listen, I need your help. I'm on a job down in Jacksonville, but it's gone bad. Thought I was dealing with a shifter but it's much worse than that. I…"

That was when the message degenerated into a series of curses and yells, a single gunshot and then ominous silence. They'd both strained to hear something, anything, that might give them a clue as to what was going on but frustratingly they'd come up with precisely zero. Dean had seen the question in Sam's eyes, the fear that maybe they'd just heard Bobby's last moments, but he refused to even entertain the thought. The elder hunter would be ok.

He had to be.

Dean looked up as Sam walked across the parking lot carrying two coffees. He handed one to his brother when he got near enough and received a grateful nod in response.

Dean took a long sip, feeling the warmth spread through him and the caffeine kick start his senses. He'd been driving on autopilot for the last few miles, having been awake now for almost eighteen hours, but even though it was nearly 1am neither of them wanted to stop knowing that Bobby could be on borrowed time already. Sam had offered to drive but Dean had refused. At least this way he felt like he was actually doing something.

Sam sipped his own coffee, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye. He knew his brother was practically asleep on his feet which was partly why he'd suggested pulling into the all night garage when he'd seen the sign. He understood why Dean insisted on driving but he'd just as soon they didn't end up wrapped round a tree. He was feeling the pull of sleep himself but worry about Bobby and a need to keep an eye on his brother were helping him stay awake so far.

"So how much longer do you think?" he asked and Dean glanced at him and shrugged, wincing a little as his bruises had stiffened up after so long in the car.

"Five hours, maybe. We'll find out where he was staying when we get there and hopefully we can work out exactly what it was he thought he was hunting. Let's just hope they don't have too many places to bed down."

"Looking at the map the town seems pretty small. We should be able to spot his car at least, if nothing else."

"Assuming he didn't take it with him wherever he was going." Dean replied and Sam sighed.

"Good point."

Dean drained the last of his coffee and walked over to a trashcan, dropping the empty cup into it.

"Come on, let's get moving again."

Sam nodded, quickly finishing his own drink and getting back in just as Dean started the engine.

As it was they made it in just over four hours, Dean pushing the car and himself to the limit. They drove round the deserted streets and Sam was just about awake enough to spot the distinctive blue of Bobby's classic as they passed their third motel. Dean stood on the brakes, screeching to a stop, and reversed so he could turn in. Pulling up alongside the car he let Sam go and book them in - since he wasn't sure he could form a coherent sentence anymore - and got out, blinking as the cool air woke him up slightly. Bobby's car was locked, as he'd expected, and there was no sign of anyone trying to get into it. He saw Sam on his way back from the reception and walked round to the Impala again, Sam waving a key at him as he approached.

"Room 309. Bobby was in 308. I recognised the alias on the register."

"Nice work." said Dean, approvingly, as he opened the trunk so they could get their bags out.

They quickly dumped them in their room, grimacing a little at the décor, and quietly came back outside. Sam kept watch while Dean made fast work of the lock on Bobby's room and moments later they were in.

Since there was a light directly outside the window they didn't switch any on inside, just in case the guy at reception was paying attention, although they did both turn on their flashlights. The room was neat and tidy but unfortunately had no closet, which was a pain since that was where they knew Bobby usually liked to keep newspaper cuttings and reports. Dean had already checked all the drawers and the bedside cabinet when Sam suddenly remembered something and he pulled back the covers on the bed, lifting up the mattress.

"Hey," he said quietly, looking triumphant as he pulled out several bundles of paper.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

"You're on a roll tonight, Sammy."

They sat down on the bed and Sam handed him half the papers. As they flicked through them quickly Dean rubbed his eyes more than once to try and get them to focus properly. In the end he gave up.

"Come on, let's take these next door. I'm gonna need more caffeine and a decent light to make any sense of this."

They grabbed Bobby's bag as they left, knowing it would be safer with them, and made it back to their own room without being seen. Sam dropped the bag next to theirs as he switched the lights on and, locking the door behind them, Dean took off his jacket and made a beeline for the kettle. He was relieved to see some sachets of coffee and two mugs sitting on the side next to it.

Sam meanwhile sat down on one of the beds, spreading the papers out in front of him. He'd already skimmed through half of them by the time Dean came over, handing him a steaming mug.

"Thanks. Ok, well I can see why Bobby thought it was a shifter. It looks the like the right MO, even down to skin shedding and the conflicting police reports. There's been a series of robberies in all the small towns in this area, ending with this one. The jewellers and the post office here were hit last week, three days before Bobby arrived according to the date I saw on the register. He must have been tracking it."

"But he said on the phone it wasn't a shifter – it was something worse. What could have the same MO but be worse? I mean Bobby's not easily freaked out but he sounded seriously frantic in that message."

Sam frowned.

"I'm not sure. I'll check online, see if there's anything that has obvious similarities to the shifter."

Dean nodded.

"I'll check Dad's journal. Bobby's bound to have some of his books with him as well."

It was the sound of a car backfiring outside that jerked Sam from his sleep. He sat bolt upright, wincing at the bright sunlight shining through the window. It took a few seconds to work out where he was then it came back to him. He looked across the room and smiled slightly when he saw Dean was sprawled on the bed, one of Bobby's books half open across his chest, sound asleep.

Clearly Sam hadn't been the only one who'd hit the wall sometime around dawn.

Standing up he winced as his back cracked, making its own protest about sleeping hunched over a table. He yawned and walked across to the kitchen area to make yet more coffee, glancing at his watch and seeing it was just after 8:00. Last thing he remembered it had been about 6:00 so at least they hadn't slept too long, although his body was helpfully pointing out that wasn't really a good thing. Filling up the kettle he set it to boil and walked over to Dean's bed, nudging his brother's leg with his knee.

"Dean. Wake up."

Dean mumbled something and gripped the book tighter. Sam couldn't help grinning, shaking his head slightly as he tried again.

"Dean, someone's stealing the Impala."

Dean's feet were actually on the floor and moving before his eyes were open, the book landing with a thud on the carpet. He blinked and staggered slightly, his balance working to catch up with the rest of him, and hearing sniggering he focused his attention and saw Sam watching him with a seriously amused look on his face.

Realisation dawned and the bleary eyed look became a glare.

"Dude, that's not funny."

"Was from where I was standing. Anyway, it got your attention."

Dean muttered something under his breath and Sam went back to making the coffee, still chuckling to himself. Stooping down to pick up the book Dean checked it for damage, knowing what Bobby was like, and satisfied it was ok he tossed it on the bed with the others. Walking over to the window he glanced out and after seeing the Impala was still sitting where he'd left her, he turned round and leaned back against the windowsill.

Sam came over and handed him a mug, slightly warily. Dean shook his head.

"Relax, I wouldn't waste the caffeine. You might want to consider sleeping with one eye open though."

Sam smirked but said nothing, knowing when to quit while he was ahead. Dean drank half the coffee, ignoring how hot it was, and glanced down at the papers spread across the table.

"So did you have any luck?"

"No, but then I think I must have fallen asleep the same time you did."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck frustratedly.

"There's nothing in any of those books that can shed its skin and mimic a person, nothing that isn't a shifter anyway. You're sure that's the MO in all these robberies?"

Sam nodded.

"Positive. And all of the people they've arrested swear they didn't do it, despite the physical evidence. They all claim to have been knocked out just before each robbery occurred. Cops are treating each one as an individual case - no one's spotted the pattern yet since the towns are pretty far apart."

"No one except Bobby."

"Right."

Dean swallowed the rest of his coffee and took the mug back to the sink.

"So why did he say it was worse than a shifter in that message? And where was he when whatever it was attacked him? You saw that room, there was no way he was taken from there. Which means he must have been following up on a lead when he ran into it."

Sam looked thoughtful.

"I could see if the cell company could give us a location based on his last call. It's worth a shot."

"Good idea. If we can at least check out where he was taken we may find a clue as to what this thing could be. You do that and I'm gonna grab a shower, ok?"

"Yeah, just don't use all the hot water."

Dean grinned at him.

"Would I?"

Rolling his eyes Sam picked up his phone and powered up the laptop from its standby state. A quick search gave him the number he was looking for and after ten minutes spent employing all the charm he could muster, he had the grid reference they were looking for. He was just checking the map when Dean came out of the bathroom.

"I got it. According to this it's about three miles from here, out on one of the trails by the river."

Dean grimaced.

"Of course it is. You know just once I'd like to take a job that doesn't involve trees or rivers."

Sam grinned.

"I'll make a note. Although in fairness it looks like just the river this time. The forest is on the other side."

"Oh well, that makes it so much better. We've had such good experiences with water."

"Maybe our luck will change. Anyway, why don't you get the stuff together. I won't be long."

Dean picked up the weapons bag as Sam hurried into the bathroom, still mumbling about trees and the great outdoors in general. His mood did improve briefly when he heard a yell followed by some pretty inventive swearing.

Maybe a cold shower would remind his brother not to joke about the Impala in future.

Sam looked distinctly less amused when he came out five minutes later but let it go before things ended up escalating as they always did. He took the proffered hand gun and knife, tucking one into his boot and one into the waistband of his jeans. He saw Dean had also taken out some rope, two flares and a bag of salt. He watched as his brother put the flares and salt in his jacket pockets and handed him the rope.

"You sure you got enough there, Dean?" he asked with an amused look and Dean shrugged.

"Pays to be prepared, Sam, you know that."

Sam couldn't really argue given previous experience but it still didn't stop him smiling slightly as he watched Dean mentally run through a list in his head, trying to think of anything else they might need.

Clearly having decided they had everything they could carry Dean picked up the motel room key and unlocked the door. Sam grabbed the map on his way past and folded it so the area they were looking for was showing on top.

"Come on then, Sasquatch, let's get this over with." Dean said and Sam resisted the urge to elbow him as he went past, only out of deference to the bruises from the previous day. He really did look forward to the day Dean grew out of the whole nickname thing.

It didn't take them long to reach the co-ordinates Sam had carefully pencilled on the map and they stopped, looking around for anything out of place.

"Not exactly the most logical place for an ambush." Dean remarked and Sam had to agree.

"True, it is pretty open."

It was in fact extremely open, the path edged on one side by the fast flowing river and on the other by a wide expanse of grass leading to a road some distance back. On the other side of the water the forest stood tall and imposing as far as the eye could see, but the distance was too wide for anyone to cross easily, not to mention the strong currents.

Dean crouched down, studying the ground.

"There's too many footprints to tell if the ground's been disturbed. Doesn't look like they've had any rain for a while either, so the wind's just blowing the dust and sweeping them all away. Which is helpful."

"Yeah. This path is probably used by people from the town walking their dogs or runners. Could be there's been thirty or forty people come by here since Bobby called us last night."

"Perfect."

Dean scanned the ground anyway while Sam straightened up and walked further into the grass, heading towards the road. He stopped, deep in thought, jumping a little when Dean's shoulder brushed his arm as he came to stand next to him.

"Anything?"

Sam shook his head.

"No, but I was thinking – what if it wasn't a creature? Bobby said it was worse than a shifter, so what if he meant worse as in harder to understand? You've said it yourself, demons you get but people are just crazy. If it was a 'someone' and not a 'something' then they could have had a car somewhere along this road."

Dean frowned.

"And what, they took Bobby with them?"

Sam looked uncomfortable.

"Maybe. In some form or another."

He didn't elaborate but he didn't need to. The grim look on Dean's face showed that he understood more than he wanted to.

"Alright, so what if it was a person – how do you explain these people that the police have arrested? You said the cops had physical evidence they were at the crime scene, right? And there's the skin shedding. No, this points to something in our line of work, Sam, not just your average psycho."

Sam sighed.

"Yeah, ok. I was just clutching at straws, I know."

Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Right now we can't rule anything out."

Sam gave him a brief smile, appreciating the effort.

"I guess. I just wanna find him, Dean."

"I know. Me too." said Dean, softly.

They spent the next hour searching every inch of the riverbank and surrounding area but there was nothing to show Bobby had ever been there. Dean was trying hard to keep calm but lack of sleep, too much caffeine, and plain old worry were stretching his nerves to breaking point. Glancing over at Sam and seeing him roll his head to stretch tense neck muscles told him that his brother was feeling the same. Dean walked back over.

"Come on, we're wasting time here. Whatever took Bobby didn't leave us any clues – we might as well go back to the motel and go over these reports again. We gotta be missing something."

Sam's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"I suppose so. We should grab some food on the way though. We drink anymore coffee on empty stomachs we're gonna be too wired to even think straight."

"No argument here."

With one final look round they both headed back towards the town.

If either of them had glanced back, they might have noticed two eyes that gleamed briefly in the sunlight then disappeared back into the darkness of the bushes at the side of the road.


	3. Chapter 3

"That's odd."

Dean looked up from the pile of newspaper reports and swallowed the bite of food in his mouth.

"What's odd?" he said and Sam glanced over at him.

"I just noticed another pattern, running alongside the robberies."

Dean stood up, stumbling a little since his left leg had gone to sleep where he'd had it bent under him on the bed. He pulled up a chair next to Sam and his brother turned the laptop round so he could see the screen.

"Look, this is a report that was in the paper a week before one of the robberies, three months ago."

Dean leaned forward and skimmed through it.

"Ok, it's a couple of missing hikers – what's that got to do with our case?"

"They're not just missing. A few days after that report there's another smaller paragraph says two bodies were found. They'd been torn up, as if they were attacked by a bear or some other wild animal."

"Oh great – what is it with us and bears lately?"

Sam ignored the question, instead pulling up another article.

"This is a similar report but this time a week or so before the second set of robberies. Same thing, missing hiker, body discovered badly mauled a few days later by a Ranger. Every town that's had a robbery has had one or two of these deaths just beforehand. It's definitely a pattern, Dean."

Dean frowned and sat back in his chair.

"So maybe the woods round here have got a bear problem – wouldn't be a first."

Sam shook his head.

"And what, it just happens to get hungry just before there's a crime spree in the nearest town? Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?"

"Ok, so what if it is connected? Shifters don't usually kill people, they need their victims alive for the memories, you know that. They certainly don't drag people into woods and tear them to pieces."

"I know, but it has to be linked somehow. It doesn't make sense having two weird things going on at the same time, in the same towns, without there being a reason."

Dean stood up, stretching his legs as he thought.

"You think the shifter's teamed up with something? Everything we've read says they work alone, it'd be unusual to find one with a partner. Especially a partner that likes to eat people."

Sam twisted in his chair, following Dean's progress as paced.

"Yeah, but we have to check it out at least. Bobby said worse than a shifter – maybe he encountered the other creature. The one doing the mauling. That would make sense."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Dude, nothing about this makes sense. But you're right, we might as well check it out. We got nothing else to go on right now."

They split up to cover more ground, Sam heading for the local Ranger's office and Dean taking the car to drive back to the previous town to double check the details were the same. It was late afternoon by the time he returned and Sam was already back at the motel room.

"Hey. How'd you get on?"

Dean smirked at the fact he didn't even get through the door before Sam questioned him. Clearly someone had been drinking a little too much coffee while they were waiting.

"Well, you were right. I had the secretary at the police station go back through the records and she found a report of three students who were out camping and never came back. They didn't find any bodies but the campsite was ripped apart and they found enough blood to list them as presumed dead."

"They blame it on a bear?" said Sam and Dean nodded as he undid his tie.

"Yep. Another strike for Yogi. Seriously though, the camp was discovered after the robberies but there's nothing to say it didn't actually happen beforehand. These guys had been out there a couple of weeks before anyone reported them overdue."

Sam looked excited.

"I got the same story. Just before the first robbery here they found the remains of a hunter who'd been missing a week. That would mean he probably died around the time whatever did the robberies arrived in town."

Dean grabbed his shirt and jeans off the bed and went into the bathroom to get out of his suit, raising his voice so Sam could still hear him.

"Ok, so we know for sure that something is killing people by ripping them to shreds and it's somehow in league with the shifter committing the robberies. That still doesn't tell us what the hell it is. Or why they're working together."

Sam sighed and rubbed his face.

"I know. And there's no witnesses to the killings since they've all turned up dead. Or not at all in the case of those students. There's got to be something we're missing though, some clue we've overlooked."

Dean came back out, dropping the discarded suit onto his bed and sitting down on the edge of Sam's.

"Maybe, but in the meantime whatever it is has already had Bobby for nearly 24 hours. We're running out of time here."

"You think I don't know that?" Sam demanded and Dean shook his head.

"Hey, I know you know that. Don't go getting defensive on me, Sam."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry."

"Forget it. Look, we need to stay focused on what we're doing. Neither of us has had any sleep, we've both had far too much coffee and we're both worried about Bobby. We just need to take a breath and keep a lid on it, ok?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, ok. So what do you think we should do next?"

Dean thought for a moment.

"You said they actually found that hunter's body?"

"What was left of it. Why?"

Dean flashed him a quick grin.

"Because I think it's time we paid a visit to the local morgue."

Sam groaned as Dean stood up and picked up his jacket.

"I really hate this job sometimes."

Sam swallowed as he leaned against the wall, giving Dean space to work the full Winchester charm for the benefit of the female security guard at the front desk. He really hoped he wasn't going to throw up, not from Dean's antics but from the smell of antiseptic and other things he really didn't want to think about. It was already having a pretty strong effect on his stomach and he was suddenly glad he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

Trying to take his mind off the churning he glanced over in time to see the guard giggle at something his brother had just said. Sam sighed, hoping they weren't going to be there all night. Sometimes Dean really did get a little carried away, especially when he had a willing audience.

To his surprise though a few moments later Dean straightened up from his leaning position on the desk, said something else that got him a shy smile this time, and turned to walk towards Sam.

"Beth says we can have ten minutes. She's gonna switch the camera's off so no one will see us go in." he said with a satisfied smile.

"Beth, huh?" said Sam, one eyebrow raised, and Dean nodded.

"Yep. She does the nightshift here five days a week but she really wants to save enough money to get out of town as soon as she can. She actually wants to be a forensic pathologist, she's taking classes."

Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Dude, you were talking to here for like ten minutes. How is it you managed to get her entire life history?"

Dean smirked and elbowed him.

"Cos I'm that good."

Sam was spared the need to answer by their arrival at the door they were looking for. Dean swiped the card Beth had given him and the light turned green. He held the door open for Sam then followed him in, switching on the lights as he went.

"Alright, according to the records he should be in drawer fifteen." he said and Sam started scanning the numbers.

"Over here."

Sam took a deep breath as he pulled open the drawer, glancing at Dean in time to see him grimace.

"Damn, that's nasty."

Sam nodded, not wanting to speak since he was trying to breathe just through his mouth.

"You ready?" Dean asked and Sam reluctantly nodded as his brother pulled back the cover, exposing what was left of the hunter.

"Now that's just gross."

Dean looked up when he got no response and was somewhat amused to see the interesting shade of green Sam had turned.

"Hey, if you're gonna barf don't do it all over the corpse, ok? We're looking for evidence here remember."

Sam glared at him.

"Just shut up and get on with it, would you?" he hissed and Dean smirked.

"Sure, just let me know if you're gonna faint cos I'm not hauling your ass out of here."

Sam bit his tongue and reminded himself they were doing this for Bobby.

Ten minutes later Sam really was about to hurl and Dean had stopped being so amused by it, actually putting his hand under Sam's arm to steady him as they walked back along the corridor.

"Wait outside, I'll just be a second." he said and Sam nodded, giving a half hearted smile to Beth as he stumbled past her and out into the blissfully fresh night air.

True to his word Dean didn't hang around, coming out a few moments later. He gave Sam a concerned look.

"You ok?" he said and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I'm alright. It was just the smell, you know?"

Dean nodded.

"I gotta admit that was one of our more juicy ones."

"Dean!"

"Sorry."

Sam shook his head, used to his brother's macabre sense of humour, and took a few more deep breaths as they walked across to the Impala. As Dean started the engine Sam rolled his window down, although the thought did occur that it would serve his brother right if he threw up in his baby.

Then again, he'd probably end up being the one who had to clean it up.

Trying to take his mind off it he focused on the job in hand.

"So what do you think?" he asked and Dean frowned.

"Definitely claws. Those slashes looked bigger than the ones you'd get from a bear though."

"Wendigo?" said Sam and Dean shook his head.

"I don't think so, not with the way the bodies have just been left. Wendigos only kill to eat and they don't waste anything. Some of that guy may have been eaten but there was quite a lot left behind."

"Dean."

Dean looked across at the pleading tone and saw the hint of green was back. He winced.

"Sorry. Not to go into too much detail, I saw some teeth marks as well. Looked pretty big."

"So we're talking definite creature. But it still doesn't explain how or why it's tied in with the shifter."

"I know. Or why it took Bobby."

There was silence briefly as Dean pulled back into the motel parking lot. He switched off the engine and was about to get out when Sam grabbed his arm.

"Do you think he's still alive?"

Dean flinched and looked over, meeting Sam's pained gaze.

"Of course he's still alive." he said, his tone broking no argument.

Sam hesitated and seemed about to say something else but stopped.

"Ok."

Dean relented, realising he'd perhaps been a little abrupt.

"We're gonna find him, Sam." he said, his tone softer this time, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I know we are."

As he followed Dean back into the motel room Sam prayed he was right. After everything that had happened, and with the loss of John still so raw, he didn't want to think about what losing Bobby would do to his brother.

Or to himself for that matter.

As Sam powered up the laptop Dean glanced at his watch.

"Since we're gonna be pulling an all nighter again I'm gonna go grab us some food, ok?" he said.

"Sure, just nothing too greasy."

Dean shook his head and said something about sensitive constitutions which Sam ignored. He watched out the window as Dean walked towards the diner they'd passed earlier, running through in his mind all the things that could possibly have caused the injuries they'd just seen. Turning back to the laptop, Sam started the process of elimination.

For a small town the diner had been surprisingly busy, even for take out. Dean had waited impatiently, tapping his foot and keeping a well trained eye on the people coming and going around him. His thoughts drifted to Bobby and he felt his throat tighten at the idea of him out there in the clutches of god knows what, possibly hurt. Or worse.

He tried to shrug the thought away but he kept coming back to it. Bobby was the only one left these days who knew his and Sam's history, who'd seen them grow up, who they could trust completely. Besides each other he was all the family they really had and the idea that he might be gone was making Dean feel as sick as Sam had earlier.

He was so lost in thought that he only heard the waitress call his number on the third try. He ducked his head, embarrassed, as he stepped forward and took the bag from her with a quick smile. As he left the diner he berated himself for getting distracted, especially since they were on the job. Of course the truth was both he and Sam were running on their last reserves at this point, and there was no way two hours sleep was going to last them much longer. But they had to keep going. Bobby couldn't afford for them to take a break and they sure as hell were not about to let him down, not after everything he'd done for them over the years.

They owed him.

Tired as he was Dean became aware about halfway back to the motel that he wasn't alone. He stopped, bending down as if to tie his shoelace and listened, all his senses alert for any sound of movement. There was nothing though, besides the sound of leaves shifting in the breeze. He straightened up and carried on walking, still listening intently and scanning all around him for anything remotely out of the ordinary.

Back in the motel room Sam rubbed his eyes as the words blurred together for the third time in as many minutes. He sat back, stretching his aching muscles and deciding that he would have to take a break since none of what he was reading was making any sense anyway. He idly clicked on a local news page, scanning the articles with half hearted interest as he kept one eye on the parking lot for his brother. Suddenly he noticed something and sat up straighter. Frowning he opened up another search page and typed in a question. His eyes widened as the answer flashed up and he grabbed the nearest pile of papers, entering data and reading the answers with a growing sense of excitement. He sat back, staring at the irrefutable evidence in front of him.

"Oh my god." he breathed, wondering how they could have missed this.

At that moment Dean was just crossing the parking lot when he heard a definite noise behind him. He stopped and whirled round, his stance braced and ready for action. He narrowed his gaze, and just then saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stared with a kind of horrified fascination as it stepped out of the shadows and moved towards him with a low growl.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

Sam heard a noise and looked out of the window, seeing Dean standing there a few feet from the room. He got up, opening the door and walking quickly over to join him.

"Dean, I've got it – I know what it is!" he said excitedly, then he froze as he looked past his brother to see what stood in front of him.

"Yeah, I think I know what it is too." said Dean dryly, not even turning around.

Time stood still for a moment as they both stared at the creature in front of them, neither daring to move. In the end it was Dean who broke the tableau.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Run!"

Sam reacted instantly, turning and bolting for the motel room. Dean was seconds behind him and he could feel the creature literally breathing down his neck. Sam had stumbled across the threshold and was already turning round when Dean felt fire erupt across his back and suddenly he was falling.

"Ah hell."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Since I so evilly left the last chapter on a cliff hanger, and apparently most of you on the edge of your seat, I am going to be kind and post this one quicker than I was intending to... _

Everything happened so fast that afterwards it was all a bit of a blur to Dean.

Sam had moved at lightening speed when he'd seen Dean fall and had caught him before he hit the floor, literally throwing him behind him to safety as he'd slammed the door on the creature. Sam had put his whole weight against it, feeling the door and it's frame shudder as the creature had thrown itself against the wood. He'd managed to turn the key in the lock and put the chain on and had stepped back, watching tensely to see if it would hold. After a few more thuds there had been sudden silence and when Sam had cautiously peered out of the window the parking lot was deserted. He turned round to face Dean, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over.

"I think it's gone."

"Terrific."

Sam heard the pain behind the words and hurried over, realising something was wrong.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up, straightening with a wince and trying to ward off the inevitable.

"I'm alright."

Sam took no notice.

"Let me see."

With a sigh Dean shifted round so Sam could see his back and heard his brother swear.

"Alright? That's alright? Dude, you look like you just went ten rounds with Freddy Kruger!" said Sam as he stared horrified at the mess that was Dean's back.

"I'm sure it looks worse than it is." said Dean, biting his lip as Sam started to pull aside the material.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you're an idiot." came the retort.

Recognising that Sam was worried and therefore probably on a shorter fuse than usual, Dean wisely didn't reply. Instead he sat still while Sam helped him out of his shirt and tried not to yell when his brother proceeded to wash the gashes with antiseptic.

To Sam's relief Dean was right, they weren't as bad as they'd first appeared. Thanks to the fact Dean had been moving forward the claws had only just grazed the skin, although that was more than enough in Sam's book.

"I don't think it needs stitching. I'll need to bandage it though, for protection."

Dean waved a hand which Sam took to mean he should just get on with it. Five minutes later he was tying off the end of the bandage expertly and Dean straightened up, wincing as the cuts began to sting and throb in earnest.

"Son of a bitch." he muttered and Sam silently held out two painkillers and a glass of water, which Dean accepted.

After he'd swallowed them he handed the glass back to Sam and stood up carefully, going to his bag to find a clean tee shirt. Sam let him do it himself, knowing that since there was no immediate danger Dean wouldn't appreciate any offer of help. Instead he cleared away the remnants of the first aid and picked up the bloodied and torn shirt off the bed.

"Well that's another one ruined." said Dean with disgust as he glanced over and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and it's mine."

Dean frowned and then realised it was indeed one of Sam's that he'd borrowed.

"Oh. Sorry about that."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Forget it. I'm just grateful it wasn't worse."

Dean ignored the comment, not wanting to indulge in any post adrenaline touchy feely moments, and his gaze brightened suddenly.

"Hey, there was one good thing."

Sam looked at him.

"What?"

"The food's ok." he said, picking up the bag from where it lay next to the bed.

Sam stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.

"Of course, that's what really matters." he said and Dean just grinned at him.

Once Sam had cleared enough of a space on the table for them to sit down, gingerly in Dean's case, they turned their attention back to the matter in hand.

"So you really think the werewolf and the shifter are one and the same?" said Dean and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. It's rare, usually a shifter will mimic either a human or an animal, but there's nothing that says it's not possible for them to do both. This one must spend most of it's time as a human and then shift occasionally into the wolf at certain times of the month. It was only when I saw about it being a full moon and then tracked back to check the rest of the dates for the other attacks that I realised."

Dean chewed a piece of food and swallowed before speaking again.

"So when does the full moon end?"

"Tomorrow."

"Which means it will probably move on to the next town. We need to find out who it's mimicking right now and where it's holding Bobby, before it gets the chance to leave."

Sam swallowed some of his own food before tentatively asking the question he was sure they were both thinking.

"Do you really think it's keeping him somewhere? Werewolves usually just kill, they don't actually take people."

Dean shook his head.

"Maybe, but this one is no regular werewolf. You saw it, Sam, it's more human than wolf. Apart from the damn claws of course. But seriously, if it spends most of it's time as a shifter mimicking humans then it's bound to think more like us. Maybe it's not a full werewolf, not like the kind we're used to. You said it yourself it's rare for a shifter to be able to mimic human and animal. It's not like a regular human who's become a werewolf."

Sam's lips twitched and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just we have the weirdest conversations."

Dean gave him a rueful look.

"Yeah, well, it keeps life interesting."

"I'd actually like to give boring a go sometime you know."

Aware of the clock ticking they finished the rest of the meal quickly and as Sam cleared away the rubbish Dean stood up, carefully.

"Listen, you mentioned when we were out by the river about whatever took Bobby having a car. If it's shifting from human to wolf and back again you could have been right. I reckon whoever it's pretending to be right now, it's probably keeping Bobby at their house."

"But we don't know who that is. It's a small town but there's still a few hundred houses, Dean. We can't just knock on every door and say 'excuse me, are you feeling yourself and by the way, do you happen to have a hunter tied up in your closet?' – we might attract a little attention don't you think?"

"Cute. If you'd let me finish, I was about to say we can narrow it down at the very least. You said this thing has already hit the jewellers and the post office, right?"

"Right."

"Ok, so then what else is there that has anything of value in this town?"

Sam pulled a face.

"The bank."

"Exactly. I reckon that's gotta be the last job on it's list before it splits. So all we need to do is find out who works there and which one of them is the shifter."

"Oh, well, that sounds easy. You do remember what happened the last time we tried to trap a shifter in a bank?"

"No, it's slipped my mind."

"Dean, I'm not kidding! We really can't afford to get our names in the papers again, or to draw attention to where we are. That guy Hendrickson is already gunning for us, you want to give him another shot?"

"No, but do you want to let that thing kill Bobby before it gets out of here?"

"Of course not!"

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, ignoring the way the cuts on his back pulled.

"Look, it's not an ideal situation I'll admit, but we've not got much choice, Sam. Think of it this way, this is a small town bank. They're bound to have a fairly basic security system and not that many employees. Hopefully it won't be anywhere near as hard as Milwaukee. Ok?"

Sam sighed.

"Ok. So what do you want to do?"

"First we should check out the bank. If we can get inside we can maybe get a list of employees. Hell, if we can watch some video footage we may even spot which one it is and that'll be half the job done."

"Fine." said Sam, reluctantly. "I'll get the stuff."

For once someone must have been looking out for them and Dean was right, the bank did have a fairly basic alarm system. They were able to get past it with relative ease and once inside they headed straight for the manager's office.

Dean was checking through the files when Sam whispered his name. He went over to where Sam was sitting at the manager's desk.

"What?"

"I've found the video footage. It links directly into here, just one or two cameras by the looks of it." he said, glancing up from the small screen that sat on a table next to the desk.

"Great. Does it have everything from the last few days?" said Dean, peering over Sam's shoulder, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Just give me a second."

He rewound the tape to three days previous and then let it play. They both studied all the staff, hoping for the telltale flash of the eyes that would give away the shifter. Dean could feel his own eyes getting heavy and rubbed them irritatedly. His back was throbbing, his eyes felt like they had a desert in them and his head was starting to feel like cotton wool. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for the next week but he had to try and focus.

Bobby's life was on the line after all.

Sam glanced up at him and gave him an appraising look.

"Why don't you sit down?" he said, standing up.

"I don't need to sit down." said Dean, ignoring the empty chair.

Sam sighed and decided to cut short the whole process, simply grabbing hold of Dean's shoulder and pushing him, gently, into the chair.

"Hey!"

Sam took no notice of the indignant protest.

"To quote you, I'm not hauling your ass out of here if you pass out."

Dean opened his mouth but had no counter argument so he shut it again. Shooting Sam a final glare he turned his attention back to the screen, not about to admit that it was nice to sit down for a moment and take some of the pressure off his back.

The footage rolled by slowly and they both had to blink more than once to refocus their eyes. Suddenly Dean spotted something.

"Wait, rewind that bit would you?" he said and Sam pressed the button.

As it played again Dean leaned forward.

"There! Pause it, Sam."

Sam did so and leant forward as well, studying the guy on the screen.

"You see it?" said Dean and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. Looks like our guy."

"Can you get a good look at the badge?"

Sam forwarded the tape until there was a clearer shot and squinted at the screen.

"I can't see the first name but I think the surname is Anthony." he said.

Dean got up and went back over to the filing cabinet, flicking through the folders before pulling one out triumphantly.

"Got it. Michael Anthony. He's the deputy manager." he said excitedly and Sam walked over.

"There an address?"

Dean scanned the file and nodded.

"Yeah. You got a pen?"

Sam handed him one and Dean quickly scribbled down the details. Putting the file back he closed the drawer and locked it again while Sam put the tape back to where it had been before they arrived.

"Do we need to wipe anything?" Dean asked as he came over and Sam shook his head.

"No, I checked. By coming in the back way and sticking close to the wall in that corridor the camera didn't see us. They'll never even know we were here."

"Come on then, let's get out of here before our luck changes."


	5. Chapter 5

Back at the motel room they geared up, leaving nothing to chance.

"Here." said Dean, handing Sam a solid silver knife and a gun already filled with silver bullets. They'd stocked up on both after their last encounter with the shifter.

"Thanks. Listen, are you sure you're ok to do this?"

Dean gave him a quizzical look.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh I don't know – maybe because you got attacked by a bear yesterday and were on the wrong end of a werewolf's claws today?"

"Dude, chill out would you? The bear did nothing more than squash me a little and those scratches didn't even need stitching. You worry too much, Sammy."

"Yeah, and you don't worry enough."

"Well then between us we got it covered. Now come on, we want to get this over with before the shifter has a chance to strike again. If it's planning on leaving tomorrow it may well want to hit the bank tonight."

Sighing Sam stowed his weapons and grabbed the car keys before Dean could protest. Dean glared but didn't try and take them back, that fact alone proving to Sam that while the scratches might not be life threatening they were obviously painful nonetheless.

They parked round the corner from Michael Anthony's house, aware that the Impala wasn't the quietest car in the world. Creeping along in the shadows they padded silently up to the house in question and climbed over the wall at the side. The house was in darkness and there was no sign of movement, but that didn't make them any less careful. As Sam picked the lock Dean glanced up at the sky, noticing the full moon peeking out from behind the clouds. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and pushed aside the feeling, although he did scan the yard behind them just to be sure.

"Got it."

Dean turned round at Sam's quiet exclamation and followed him through the door, closing it silently behind them. They both switched on their flashlights, keeping the beams low.

"Where first?" whispered Sam and Dean looked around. He spotted a door under the stairs and pointed towards it with his flashlight.

"There – might be a basement."

The door was locked but Dean had it open in seconds. He'd been right about it being a basement and they crept down the stairs silently, wincing as the old wooden stairs creaked under their weight. When they reached the bottom they stopped, listening for any noises.

It was totally silent.

Moving forward they split up, Dean heading right and Sam going to the left. There was the usual piles of stuff on shelves and on the floor, all of which Dean dismissed as irrelevant, and he'd almost reached the far wall when his flashlight picked up a lump in the corner, covered in tarpaulin. Heart thudding he made his way forward and, feeling his stomach flip over, grabbed the corner and pulled it back.

"Bobby."

Even from across the other side of the room Sam heard Dean's quiet exhalation and he quickly came across. He looked past Dean and swallowed.

"Is he?"

He couldn't finish the question and Dean glanced at him for a second before leaning forward and putting his fingers gently against the hunter's neck. They both held their breath then Dean let his out shakily, turning to Sam with a relieved look on his face.

"He's alive."

Sam closed his eyes briefly then opened them again, his face splitting into a wide grin that was returned by his brother.

"Help me untie him." said Dean, his flashlight picking out the ropes that were attached to a pipe and held Bobby's arms securely above his head.

Sam quickly reached up and cut through them while Dean supported Bobby, taking his weight when the ropes came away finally. He hissed slightly as this pulled at the cuts on his back and Sam immediately took some of the weight. Between them they got him out of the corner, cutting through the ropes that also bound his feet together. While Sam was taking care of that Dean studied the cut on Bobby's head.

"There's a nasty bump under there but I don't think his skull is cracked. Looks like it stopped bleeding a while ago. There's a couple of scratches on his shoulder but I can't see any other injuries." he whispered and Sam nodded.

"He's probably concussed, we'll need to get him checked out at the hospital."

Dean was about to reply when they heard a noise. They both froze, looking upwards as they heard the floorboards creak above them.

Dean silently motioned for Sam to take Bobby which he did, carefully picking him up in a fireman's lift. Dean took out his gun and crept over to the stairs, making sure Sam was behind him. He started edging his way up as silently as possible, all the while listening for any further noises in the house. When he reached the top he held his hand out for Sam to stay put and opened the door slowly, waiting for a few seconds before he stuck his head out.

The corridor was deserted, just as it had been when they came in. Beckoning Sam forward he held the door open, waiting until his brother was all the way through before closing it behind them silently.

"Take Bobby out to the car." he whispered, not bothering to wait for Sam's reply before turning and heading towards the kitchen.

Sam hesitated, torn between getting Bobby to safety and helping Dean. In the end he turned and hurried towards the front door, managing to get it open with one hand as he used the other to steady Bobby on his shoulder. He'd barely made it halfway down the path when he heard the sound of breaking glass from inside. Without hesitation this time he gently laid Bobby on the ground and ran back towards the house.

Dean swore as the werewolf's claws missed his head by a hair's breadth. Ducking and rolling he came to his feet on the other side of the kitchen, the knife held out in front of him. The werewolf growled and stalked forward as Dean looked for a way to get around it, since he was now backed into a corner.

When he'd first entered the kitchen it had appeared empty but it looked like he'd been right about the thing being more human than wolf as it had been hiding in the shadows. It was only his hunter's reflexes that saved him as he'd seen the briefest movement out of the corner of his eye and dived out of the way just as it went for him. Unfortunately he'd felt the gun fall to the floor as he moved and the werewolf hadn't been in the mood to let him find it, so he was down to just the knife. As he tried to work out the best angle he noted to himself that it actually seemed bigger than it had at the motel.

Just then he heard the sound of running footsteps.

"Oh, he didn't." he said under his breath, turning his head in time to see Sam skid to a halt in the doorway.

Sam took in the scene in one glance, relieved to see Dean upright and apparently prepared for action.

And also pissed, if the look he was getting was anything to go by.

"I thought I told you to get Bobby to safety!" Dean hissed and Sam edged closer, keeping one eye on the werewolf.

"I did, he's outside."

"You just left him lying there?"

"Yes, I heard something breaking and figured you might need a hand."

"Do I look like I need a hand?"

At that moment the werewolf growled, seemingly fed up with being ignored by the bickering hunters. They both gave it their full attention, Sam tightening his grip on his gun.

Dean nudged him and Sam glanced down, watching the hand signals his brother was discreetly making. He nodded slightly to show he understood and tensed his muscles.

They both counted to three in their heads and then moved with speed. Dean dived to the left and came at the werewolf side on while Sam stepped back and aimed his gun at it. He fired and it howled as the bullet hit it in the shoulder. Sam cursed, the lack of light in the kitchen and the fact it was moving made it impossible to get a good shot. As it reared up Dean leapt forward with his knife and stabbed it in the right side. It howled again and swung it's arm, catching him in the side of the head and knocking him clean across the kitchen into the wall.

"Dean!"

Sam's cry got the werewolf's attention and it turned to stalk towards him. Sam took a step back and aimed again but before he could fire the werewolf struck it out with it's long arm and knocked the gun out of Sam's hand, smashing him into the wall at the same time.

"Hey, Wolverine – over here you freaky bastard."

Sam was relieved to hear Dean's yell but less pleased that he was drawing the werewolf's attention again. As it moved back towards his brother Sam pushed himself upright, shaking his head to try and clear the stars in his vision. He looked around for the gun, spotting it lying by the table, and dropped to his knees to grab it.

Dean meanwhile was playing tag with the thing, trying to get near enough to pull his knife out again. Unfortunately the werewolf wasn't up for being helpful and every time he got close it swiped at him with it's massive claws. It had missed him so far but Dean had a feeling his luck wouldn't hold forever.

Sam stood up with the gun back in his hand again and took aim, squinting as he tried to line it up with the fast moving creature. He hesitated, not wanting to risk hitting Dean.

"Dean, drop!" he said and his brother instantly complied, hitting the ground as Sam pulled the trigger.

This time the bullet hit the werewolf in it's back and it howled loud enough to deafen them both, reaching round to claw at the wound as it staggered.

"Why the hell won't this thing just die?" said Dean, watching in disbelief as it turned round to face them again.

"We're gonna have to hit the heart." Sam replied, watching as Dean crawled round to join him then got to his feet.

"Give me your knife."

Sam bent down and pulled it out of his boot, handing it to his brother. Dean had barely had time to take hold of it before the werewolf sprung at them. They both dived in different directions and the creature went for Sam, grabbing hold of his shoulder. Sam gritted his teeth as he felt the claws dig in and tried to pull away but it was strong and yanked him backwards. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet, trying to twist round so he could get the gun aimed at it. The werewolf put paid to that plan though by swinging him round and smashing his head against the wall.

Again.

This time everything faded out for a few seconds and it was only the werewolf's grip that kept him upright.

Dean swore as he watched and took the opportunity to get behind the werewolf. Throwing himself at it he literally climbed onto it's back, grabbing hold of the fur as it howled and tried to throw him off. Needing both arms to try and claw Dean it dropped Sam, who ended up on all fours with his head spinning dizzily.

"Sam, you ok?" yelled Dean, holding on for dear life as the werewolf staggered around the kitchen trying to shake him off.

"Yeah, I'm alright." Sam said, trying to get to his feet and eventually managing it by holding onto the wall.

"Listen, you remember that job in Pittsburgh? The one just before you went to Stanford?"

Sam frowned, wondering why on earth his brother was picking now for a trip down memory lane.

"What job?" he said, wincing as the werewolf crashed into the cupboards and pinned Dean against them for a moment. That definitely had to hurt, especially with the cuts on his back.

"You know, the move we pulled to kill that Rawhead."

Sam thought about it for a second then realisation dawned.

"Yeah, yeah I remember."

"Great."

As he said that Dean let go with one hand and took hold of Sam's knife, driving it into the werewolf's back with all his strength. The werewolf reared up, throwing it's head back and giving Sam a perfect shot at it's chest. In one smooth manoeuvre Sam raised the gun, aimed, and fired.

The bullet hit it straight in the heart.

Dean leapt clear as the werewolf fell to the floor, rolling aside as it took the table and two of the chairs with it. After the crashing sounds had died away there was silence, broken only by the wheezing and coughing of the two Winchesters.

"You ok?" called Sam, from his position leaning against the wall.

Dean pushed himself up on one arm and peered across the kitchen, just able to make Sam out.

"Yeah, I'm good."

Sam nodded and stood up straight, feeling a little dizzy but otherwise just bruised. He walked across to the body, seeing it had reverted to it's human form. He looked up as Dean stumbled over to join him.

"Guess it goes back to the last human it was mimicking." Sam said and Dean nodded, recognising 'Michael Anthony' from the video footage.

"Yeah. Speaking of which, where exactly do you think this thing was keeping the poor guy?"

Sam blinked, not having really thought about that up till then.

"We should check." he said and Dean shook his head.

"I'll check, you go make sure Bobby's ok."

Sam's eyes widened as he suddenly remembered he'd left the elder hunter out in the garden. Tucking the gun back into his waistband he weaved his way back to the front door and made his way outside, the cold air clearing his head a little. He was relieved to see Bobby right where he left him, still unconscious but no worse than he had been before. He gently picked him up again, biting his lip as he felt the cuts on his shoulder begin to throb in earnest, and managed to get him to the Impala with relative ease. He'd just got him settled in the back seat when Dean came jogging into view.

"He alright?" Dean asked as he drew near and Sam nodded, straightening up and closing the passenger door.

"Yeah, although he's still out cold. Did you find the guy?"

"Yep, tied up in the bedroom. No way I could think of to explain it so I just snuck out before he could see me and made an anonymous call to the cops. Let them try and work it out."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"That I'd like to see." he said and Dean smirked.

"Me too, but not literally. Come on, let's get out of here before they arrive."

Aware that they both looked a mess they quickly stopped by the motel first, changing into clean clothes and washing off the most visible blood. Once they were vaguely presentable they drove to the small hospital on the outskirts of town and carefully carried Bobby inside. Having given their 'uncles' details they sat down in the hard plastic chairs and tried not to worry too much as they waited.

"You think he's been unconscious since last night?"

Dean turned his head at the question, watching as Sam shifted in the chair and tried to get comfortable. Personally Dean had given up on that about fifteen minutes ago.

"Probably not. If he's concussed he's most likely been in and out."

Sam nodded, but looked no less worried.

"I suppose so."

Ten more minutes passed and Sam shifted again, hissing this time as he knocked his shoulder against the wall.

"Dude, would you sit still?" said Dean, exasperated, and Sam glared at him.

"Welcome to my world." he said dryly and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey, you see me fidgeting like I got ants in my pants?"

Sam was saved from answering by the appearance of the doctor. He gave them a kindly smile as they both stood up.

"Hello. You must be Mr Harris's nephews, is that right?" he said and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. How is he?"

"Well, he was lucky. Although he has a nasty bump on the head and a pretty severe concussion there's no sign of any skull fracture or internal bleeding. We've given him a couple of stitches, and also cleaned out some deep scratches on his shoulder. You say this happened out in the forest?"

"Uh, yeah, he was out there doing some hiking and we think he must have fallen." said Sam and the doctor nodded.

"I see. Well, as I say, it could have been much worse. We're expecting him to wake up any moment now, although we'd like to keep him overnight as he's a little dehydrated and we want to make sure there's no after effects from the head injury. We're just getting him settled in a room so one of the nurses will come and get you when he's ready."

Dean gave the doctor a relieved smile, feeling Sam relax beside him.

"That's great, we appreciate you taking such good care of him." he said, shaking the doctor's hand.

"Not at all, that's what we're here for."

As he turned to go the doctor looked at them both and frowned slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking you boys seem a little bruised yourselves – do you need someone to take a look at you?"

"Oh no, we're fine. We just, uh, slipped a few times when we were getting our uncle back to the car." said Sam hastily and the doctor nodded.

"Well, if you're sure." he said and with a final look headed back through the double doors again.

"A little bruised. He should see the rest of us." said Dean and Sam shook his head.

"It could have been worse. I still can't believe how strong that thing was."

As they sat back down again Dean looked thoughtful.

"It certainly was one of the tougher things we've had to kill. I thought it was never gonna die."

"Tell me about it. And for the record, do you think you could be a little more specific next time rather than just bringing up some random hunt that happened five years ago? I almost didn't get what you were talking about."

"I was trying to be discreet, Sam, given that it obviously understood us. Anyway, you got what I meant so what's the problem?"

"The problem is if it had taken me any longer to remember that thing could have killed both of us."

Dean shrugged, then grimaced as he remembered sudden movements were a bad idea.

"Like I said, you worry too much. We're fine, Bobby's fine, and the werewolf is toast. I'd call this one of our better days."

Sam shook his head but had to admit, they'd had worse. Just then the doors opened again and a nurse came out, beckoning them to follow her.

When they got to Bobby's room it was a relief to see he had some colour back in his face. The bruise on his left temple stood out in stark contrast and they could see the white of the bandages that were covering the scratches on his shoulder sticking out from under his gown, but other than that he looked much better. The doctors had put him on a drip to replace fluids but that was the only thing he was hooked up to. They both pulled up chairs next to the bed and sank into them, slowly.

"So how much mileage do you think we can get out of the fact we solved the mystery and saved his ass?" said Dean and Sam grinned.

"That depends on how much you want to piss him off."

Dean mulled it over.

"Good point. Maybe best not to make too big a deal of it."

Sam chuckled as he slid down in the seat trying to get comfortable.

"I just hope he wakes up soon, otherwise I'm never gonna be able to get out of this chair."

"You and me both." said Dean, as they settled back to wait.


	6. Chapter 6

When Bobby finally began to wake up the smell of antiseptic was the first thing he noticed. Opening his eyes he shut them again quickly when the light sent a stabbing pain shooting through his skull. Trying again he opened them more slowly this time and the stabbing reduced itself to a dull throb.

Looking to his right he recognised straight away that he was in a hospital. He frowned for a moment then it all came flooding back to him. As the last few days replayed on fast forward in his brain he became aware of a soft snoring sound to his left. Turning his head a smile spread across his face as he saw Dean and Sam sitting next to his bed. Both of them were asleep, Dean leaning to his right with his head actually resting on Sam's shoulder.

"The times you don't have a camera." said Bobby softly to himself.

He watched them for a moment, taking in the shadow of a bruise here and there on their faces and the fact that Sam winced in his sleep as he shifted slightly. They'd obviously been in a pretty big fight with something and he found himself wondering if it was from their last job or because they'd encountered the same creature he had. He had a dim memory of waking up in the dark, tied up and unable to move, and he was keen to know how they'd found him.

And what had happened to the shifter/werewolf.

It almost seemed a shame to wake them though. Bobby realised they both looked so much younger when they were asleep, the weight they usually carried on their shoulders disappearing and allowing them to relax. He wished sometimes that they could both find a way out of this life, to get a chance at normal lives where danger wasn't a constant companion.

But he knew even if they had the chance, they wouldn't take it. Dean especially considered it his duty to protect the innocent, to fight evil, whatever it cost him. And Sam seemed to have developed the same trait, although Bobby wondered how much of that was borne from a need to protect his brother rather than a genuine love of the hunt. Sam had always struggled with this life, had tried to break away from it in the past, but Bobby had always known that somehow he'd end up coming back to it.

If for no other reason than the fact he needed to be near his brother.

Bobby smiled fondly to himself as images of the boys as children came to mind. The closeness between the two of them hadn't changed even as they'd grown into adults, not even when Dean had been caught in the crossfire between Sam's need for a normal life and John's obsession with the hunt. As badly as he'd felt that Sam had lost the girl he loved Bobby had been glad to see the two of them working together again when they'd shown up at his place, despite the circumstances.

It'd been tough afterwards, watching them struggle with John's death, and Bobby had been as frustrated as Sam at times with the way Dean had shut them all out. But they'd weathered that storm just as they had all those before it, and when he spoke to them on the phone now and then it had sounded as if they were doing a lot better.

Deciding he really did need to know what had happened, and dragging himself from his thoughts before he started getting too maudlin, Bobby reached out and managed to nudge Sam's knee lightly with his hand.

"Sam."

His voice was croaky but it was enough to make the younger Winchester stir. Sam opened his eyes slowly, blinking, and as Bobby's face came into view he grinned widely. Sitting up straighter he realised Dean was resting on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Dean, wake up."

Dean mumbled something and sat up, looking at Sam blearily.

"What?" he said, grumpily, and Sam inclined his head towards the bed.

"Look who's awake."

Dean turned his head and when he saw Bobby watching them with an amused look, he smiled.

"Well it's about time. We were starting to think you were gonna sleep forever." he said, relief clear in his voice.

"Hey, I'm the one who's been watching you drool on your brother's shoulder for the last five minutes." said Bobby dryly, and Sam looked at his jacket with a grimace.

Dean saw and elbowed him.

"I do not drool." he said, addressing both of them, and Bobby smirked.

"Sure you don't, kid."

Grinning slightly at Dean's indignant look Sam quickly stepped in.

"So how are you feeling? The doctor says you have a pretty nasty concussion but other than that you were lucky." he said and Bobby shook his head, carefully.

"That's easy for him to say, he's not got someone with a hammer trying to break out of his skull."

"Do you want us to get the nurse?" said Dean, concerned, and Bobby held his hand up.

"No, I'm fine. What I really want to know is what the hell happened – you boys obviously found out what I was hunting I take it?"

Dean raised one eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. Nice job on that by the way, finding a shifter that spends it's spare time as a werewolf."

Bobby shrugged.

"I like the interesting stuff. So exactly how did you find it? I never had a chance to explain on the phone what it was before it overpowered me."

"Actually it found us." said Sam. "We thought at first it was two different creatures working together."

"Since Sam worked out the connection with the deaths and the robberies." interrupted Dean, looking proud.

Sam blushed slightly and continued.

"Uh, yeah, so we realised the connection but we never thought it might be the same thing. I only guessed once I noticed the pattern with the full moon, which unfortunately was the same moment it followed Dean home."

"It attacked you?" said Bobby, looking worried, and Dean nodded.

"We were lucky, it didn't get a good shot at us since we were right next to the motel room."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Although it made a good attempt when it clawed his back."

Dean glared at Sam for mentioning that and Bobby fixed Dean with a look that said he wanted the truth.

"It's fine, honestly. Didn't even need stitches." he said and Bobby looked relieved.

"Go on." he said and Sam picked up the story again.

"So, after we'd realised it was shifting into human and werewolf form we worked out it was probably going to hit the bank next then move on. We broke in and watched the video footage to see who it was mimicking then headed on over to their house hoping to find you. As we were getting you out it showed up and we managed to kill it. Dean called the cops as we left so they're probably there now, trying to work out what the hell happened."

Bobby frowned at the fact he was sure there was a large portion of the story missing.

"You managed to kill it? You make it sound easy." he said and Dean glanced at Sam, both of them trying to look innocent.

"I wouldn't say easy but we got the job done." Dean said and Bobby stared at him. Dean held out for about thirty seconds then sighed.

"Alright, fine – it threw us about a little. But we're ok. Really."

Bobby gave both of them an appraising look and decided they were probably telling the truth. Certainly he'd seen them look a lot worse.

"Well, looks like I owe you one." he said and Dean shook his head.

"Forget it. Not like you haven't saved our asses plenty of times. Just call it returning a favour." he said and Sam nodded his agreement.

Bobby gave them a fond smile.

"I still appreciate it anyway. You boys did good on this one. Took me a hell of a lot longer to realise what I was dealing with than you did, and I know for a fact how strong that thing was. You should be proud of yourselves."

Both of them ducked their heads, Sam blushing and Dean looking uncomfortable. Bobby felt slightly exasperated, wishing they could both recognise their strengths instead of always being so hard on themselves. Sometimes he still had the urge to smack John upside the head, however hard he'd tried to do the right thing when raising them.

Clearing his throat Dean looked up again.

"Anyway, since you're awake I guess it'd be alright if we went back to the motel? We could do with getting ourselves cleaned up properly." he said and Bobby nodded.

"Course it's alright. And I want you to get some sleep too, you look like you've been awake for a week. I'll be just fine. I don't want to see you boys back here till morning, you hear me?"

"Yes sir." said Dean with a grin and Sam nodded.

Back at the motel they took turns in the shower, half asleep, and Dean insisted afterwards on cleaning the gashes on Sam's shoulder while Sam insisted on re-bandaging the cuts on Dean's back. Aside from a few extra bruises and a headache each there was no major damage and once they were clean and patched up they'd both fallen asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

They were still asleep seven hours later when Bobby arrived by taxi at the motel, having been discharged. He'd let himself in, seen to his satisfaction they were both ok, and gone to his own room to shower and change. Feeling a lot better he'd then gone to the diner to fetch what was going to be a cross between breakfast and lunch, and let himself into their room again. He grinned to himself when he saw they were _still_ asleep.

It was the smell of real coffee that roused Dean and he lifted his head off the pillow, turning round and seeing to his surprise that Sam was still in his own bed. Confused now as to where the coffee had come from he sat up properly, which was when he noticed Bobby in the kitchen area. He picked up his watch from the bedside cabinet and saw it was almost 11:30.

"And you said I could sleep." said Bobby, dryly, and Dean turned to look at him again

"Hey, we were just waiting on the room service." he said with a grin and Bobby narrowed his gaze.

"Keep that up and you'll be wearing this coffee, boy." he said, making Dean grin even more.

Getting up Dean shook Sam awake as he walked past his bed and Sam sat up, rubbing a hand over his face and accepting a mug of coffee from Bobby gratefully.

"Thanks." he said, taking a long sip.

Bobby busied himself setting the food out on the table and when Dean came out of the bathroom, Sam took his place. By the time they were both dressed and awake properly, everything was ready.

They both ate hungrily, their appetites back in full force now the danger had passed. Bobby watched them, amused, and finished his own food before sitting back with his second cup of coffee.

"Better?" he said with a raised eyebrow and Dean grinned.

"Much, thanks. So what did the doctor say this morning?"

"That I got a hard head. I'm supposed to take it easy for a few days but other than that I got a clean bill of health."

Sam smiled.

"That's great. We were really worried."

"Sam was worried. I knew you'd be ok." said Dean and Sam kicked him under the table.

Bobby of course wasn't taken in at all. He'd seen the look on Dean's face when he'd woken up at the hospital.

Moving his legs out of the way as Dean tried to kick Sam back, Bobby stood up.

"What about you two?" he said, his tone conveying that he wanted the truth, and Sam glanced at Dean before answering.

"We're ok. Bruised, but ok. We didn't even need any stitches this time." he said and Bobby looked satisfied.

"Glad to hear it. So what are you going to do next?" he said, taking the empty food containers over to the bin, and Dean shrugged.

"Not sure. Head back the way we were going, maybe. We'd just finished a job when we got your message so we got nothing pressing."

Bobby leant against the counter.

"You could come back with me, if you want. Take a few days to let those bruises heal up."

Sam brightened up at the idea and gave Dean a hopeful look. Dean rolled his eyes at the puppy dog expression but nodded.

"Yeah, alright. Sounds good." he said, as keen as Sam was to spend a little time with Bobby, if he was honest.

In the end they stayed at Bobby's four days, helping him out with a few jobs around the yard and enjoying the chance to relax. The cuts on Dean's back were healing nicely, barely even bothering him anymore, and it was the same with the ones on Sam's shoulder. Even the bruises were staring to fade, most of them changing already from dark blue to faded yellows and greens.

Bobby knew when they came down to breakfast on the fifth day that they'd be hitting the road again. He'd recognised the look in Dean's eye the night before and even Sam was getting a little restless. It was the way things had to be, but it didn't make it any easier to see them go. If Bobby was honest he'd loved to have been able to keep them there, safe, forever.

As it was he'd simply nodded when they announced their intention to head off and had made them some sandwiches and fresh coffee for the road. Now the Impala was loaded and they were both resting against it as they said their goodbyes.

"You should probably wait another couple of days before you take on another job." said Dean, indicating the bruise that still stood out on Bobby's head.

"Son, it's been a long time since I needed someone to wipe my ass for me." said Bobby, but there was no sting in the words and Dean just smirked.

"Hey, I wasn't offering. Just saying you should be careful, that's all. Especially since you're on your own."

Bobby shrugged.

"It's what I'm used to. I work better that way." he said and Dean glanced at Sam.

"Yeah, well I don't know how you do it. Not sure I could." he said softly and Bobby saw Sam move slightly nearer to his brother, probably without even thinking about it.

"Me neither." Sam said and Dean gave him a quick smile, looking like he appreciated the confirmation that Sam needed him around just as much.

Bobby's expression softened, feeling a surge of affection for the two young men in front of him.

"It's different for me. I never had a brother I was as close to as you are. Reckon if I had I might have felt the same. I do alright though, no need for you to go worrying about me."

"Who said anything about worrying?" said Dean and Sam shared a long suffering look with Bobby.

"Right, cos he never worries." he said and Dean shrugged.

"Life's too short. Anyway, we should get out of your hair. What's left of it that is." he said, ducking as Bobby swatted at his head.

"Do me a favour, Sam, and whack your brother for me when he's not looking would ya?" Bobby said and Sam grinned.

"No problem." he said and Dean narrowed his gaze at him.

"Don't even think about it, Sammy, unless you want to walk to the next job."

Sam kept his mouth shut but winked at Bobby and the elder hunter winked back. He watched as they both climbed into the Impala and stepped back as Dean turned her round, waving until the car was out of sight.

As they headed for the highway Dean fiddled with the radio, pushing in the tape when he couldn't get a signal. Sam got comfortable in his seat and looked in his mirror, watching as Bobby's house disappeared into the distance.

"You think he'll be ok?" he said and Dean glanced over at him.

"Course he will. You know Bobby. He was just unlucky on this one, that's all."

Sam nodded, feeling slightly better but still making a silent wish that Bobby's luck would hold.

This job had been an unwelcome reminder of the fragility of their profession and he knew he wouldn't be the only one feeling the need to check in a little more regularly with their old friend.

Dean saw Sam's thoughtful look and knew his brother was thinking about the lucky escape they'd had this time. He had to admit it had been frightening, thinking that Bobby might be dead, and he still felt a lingering concern that next time they might lose him for real.

It was thought he couldn't even bear to contemplate really.

As he drove he also thought about what Bobby had said though, and smiled to himself. Bobby was right, he and Sam were lucky to have each other.

However much they might occasionally tick each other off.

The truth was, Dean knew he'd never be able to do what Bobby did. The idea of being alone like that scared him more than he'd ever admit. But as he glanced at Sam beside him, he relaxed.

It really wasn't worth worrying about. Because in the end it didn't matter if both of them thought they wouldn't be able to do this alone.

Because, hopefully, they'd never have to find out.


End file.
